Straight Female / 36
My Husband Knows Our Oldest Isn't His. We Both Pretend Otherwise.
Nothing sexy here. I just had to write about this today.
My husband and I have been married for nine years. He was in a car accident about seven years ago and his lower body was severely injured, almost crushed. He was wheelchair bound for a long time but finally was able to walk with a cane, and went back to work after two years. His genitals were injured as well, and he was impotent for a long time. He eventually recovered and we had a child together just before covid hit.
Luckily, we had some assets and money saved before he was injured and I was able to stop working for a while and take care of him. When he was able to get around the house in a wheelchair and basically care for himself, I went back to work as a traveling sales rep. I was in another part of the country enjoying an afternoon in a park when a handsome man struck up a conversation with me. I didn't intend for anything to happen -- I hadn't even been on the pill since my husband was injured -- but we ended up having a quick, frenzied liason. I never saw him again and I didn't even know his full name. I couldn't believe what I did. I'd never cheated on my husband before. I should have realized I was probably ovulating from the level of desire I had. I should have got the hell away from there. I bought a disposable douche as fast as I could. I had never used one before, and I didn't know at the time that by douching I probably only drove his sperm toward my egg more than anything else. I didn't even think about anything like the Plan B pill.
I felt guilty and heartsick but tried to put it out of my mind. Then I missed my period. I was so nervous when I took a home pregnancy test, and I burst into tears when it showed positive. I went to a doctor and she confirmed it. I was pregnant.
My first thought was I've got to terminate right away, but, like my husband, I was raised in a devoutly religious home. Even though I don't consider myself a believer anymore, I couldn't help feeling I'd be even more hell bound than I already was if I did that. I kept putting it off. I never told anyone anything.
I kept my ob-gyn appointments and tried to take care of myself, but other than that, I just let the days go by. Looking back now, I can't believe how crazy that was. I knew I was going to start showing soon, and my husband would probably divorce me with good reason, but I just let the days pass. Finally, I did start showing, and one day out of nowhere my husband said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" I knew that question would be coming, but I lost control and started sobbing. I blurted out everything that happened really fast through my tears, but my husband said, "Too late now, you might as well calm down. Anyway, who could blame you with a gimp husband." Of course that made me feel awful. I don't remember much of what was said after that, but finally he asked me if I'd been seeing a doctor. I told him I had and everything looked ok. He said we better start getting things ready and buying what we'd need. It made no sense to put it off.
We both just went ahead as though the baby were his. Everybody was happy he was well enough to be a father, and we just let people think that. I tried a couple times to talk about it to him, to apologize, but he said there was no need. He said it wasn't really my fault, and he intended to step up and be a good father. He didn't want to discuss it further.
He has been a good father, and doesn't treat our first born child any differently than he treats our second. I thought he'd be cold to me, and try to punish me by ignoring me, but the opposite is the case. He became even more loving and affectionate, and when his potency finally returned, he didn't hesitate to make love to me. Before long, I got pregnant again. In every area of life, he really does act like this never happened. Part of me is grateful, but part of me can't help thinking he must hold some resentment. How could he not? I've tried to move on and not feel guitly, and most of the time I can, but not always. Like today, which is the same date years ago when he first asked me if I was pregnant. It seems like we're all in a good place now, but I don't know. I don't know what else to say.
My husband and I have been married for nine years. He was in a car accident about seven years ago and his lower body was severely injured, almost crushed. He was wheelchair bound for a long time but finally was able to walk with a cane, and went back to work after two years. His genitals were injured as well, and he was impotent for a long time. He eventually recovered and we had a child together just before covid hit.
Luckily, we had some assets and money saved before he was injured and I was able to stop working for a while and take care of him. When he was able to get around the house in a wheelchair and basically care for himself, I went back to work as a traveling sales rep. I was in another part of the country enjoying an afternoon in a park when a handsome man struck up a conversation with me. I didn't intend for anything to happen -- I hadn't even been on the pill since my husband was injured -- but we ended up having a quick, frenzied liason. I never saw him again and I didn't even know his full name. I couldn't believe what I did. I'd never cheated on my husband before. I should have realized I was probably ovulating from the level of desire I had. I should have got the hell away from there. I bought a disposable douche as fast as I could. I had never used one before, and I didn't know at the time that by douching I probably only drove his sperm toward my egg more than anything else. I didn't even think about anything like the Plan B pill.
I felt guilty and heartsick but tried to put it out of my mind. Then I missed my period. I was so nervous when I took a home pregnancy test, and I burst into tears when it showed positive. I went to a doctor and she confirmed it. I was pregnant.
My first thought was I've got to terminate right away, but, like my husband, I was raised in a devoutly religious home. Even though I don't consider myself a believer anymore, I couldn't help feeling I'd be even more hell bound than I already was if I did that. I kept putting it off. I never told anyone anything.
I kept my ob-gyn appointments and tried to take care of myself, but other than that, I just let the days go by. Looking back now, I can't believe how crazy that was. I knew I was going to start showing soon, and my husband would probably divorce me with good reason, but I just let the days pass. Finally, I did start showing, and one day out of nowhere my husband said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" I knew that question would be coming, but I lost control and started sobbing. I blurted out everything that happened really fast through my tears, but my husband said, "Too late now, you might as well calm down. Anyway, who could blame you with a gimp husband." Of course that made me feel awful. I don't remember much of what was said after that, but finally he asked me if I'd been seeing a doctor. I told him I had and everything looked ok. He said we better start getting things ready and buying what we'd need. It made no sense to put it off.
We both just went ahead as though the baby were his. Everybody was happy he was well enough to be a father, and we just let people think that. I tried a couple times to talk about it to him, to apologize, but he said there was no need. He said it wasn't really my fault, and he intended to step up and be a good father. He didn't want to discuss it further.
He has been a good father, and doesn't treat our first born child any differently than he treats our second. I thought he'd be cold to me, and try to punish me by ignoring me, but the opposite is the case. He became even more loving and affectionate, and when his potency finally returned, he didn't hesitate to make love to me. Before long, I got pregnant again. In every area of life, he really does act like this never happened. Part of me is grateful, but part of me can't help thinking he must hold some resentment. How could he not? I've tried to move on and not feel guitly, and most of the time I can, but not always. Like today, which is the same date years ago when he first asked me if I was pregnant. It seems like we're all in a good place now, but I don't know. I don't know what else to say.
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